


A random stroke of a butterfly's wing

by MissTinfoilHat



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Love, Family, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 02:41:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17952128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTinfoilHat/pseuds/MissTinfoilHat
Summary: Alphonse Elric struggles with his sense of self, after being trapped in a body of armor.





	A random stroke of a butterfly's wing

Alphonse Elric sat on his own, under one of Risembool's many large chestnut trees. Nearby was the remains of the house he and his brother had grown up in. The branches of the old tree hung near the grown, worn out by the weight of the years. The big suit of armor clutched his pointy knees tightly to his chest, and sighed. At least, he imitated the sound of it. He hadn't drawn a breath into his lungs the past seven months. He didn't have the need to Breathe anymore, no inner organs needing the oxygen. A gust of wind rustled through the trees, and the boy trapped in the armor tried to imagine that he felt it.  
  
  
His body was so big now. Big and scary. That was not how the 11 year old felt on the inside. He chuckled as a thought struck him. He wished they had a little sister. Not like Winry, but a real one that had lived with them. She would probably own dolls, that Edward could have transmuted his soul to instead of this giant piece of metal. A small and fragile porcelain doll, that would be carefully handled with gentle hands. But that was not the reality of his situation. The boys did not even own any toys. They had been to buisy studying and learning alchemy after their mother had died. Playing had not been a partt of their day in a long time.  
  
  
This was stupid, Alphonse Elric thought. He should be grateful that he was alive. He should be grateful that he could not feel pain, like his brother, who was lying in bed most of the day with half of his limbs gone. Edward was in agony, and refused to show it. Only his older brother would feel guily about being in pain, and here Al sat, wishing he could feel it too. He should have been stronger, and not let his body been taken that night.  
  
  
Al looked to the sky, enjoying the sight of the clouds, darkening dangerously, warning of a storm on the rise. His surroundings started to darken. After loosing all of his other senses, Al had learn to appreaciate the beauty of his surroundings. It was amazing how the mood could switch so swiftly with a blink of an eye. A pink butterfly flappet inocently through the air, cathching Al's attention. Had Al even seen a butterfly this year? The summer had been very much present for at least a month now, leaving the grassy knolls of Risembool in a healty and nuturing green. Al watched in awe at the butterfly's carefree journey through the thousands of individually beautiful leaves of the old chestnut tree, looking for a leaf to settle on. Maybe it was looking for shelter from the storm? Al laughed. If such a small and gentle creature could make its own way in this world, so could he and Ed. After all, all though Ed had been shorter then Al for the past years, now Al was big enough to take on anything. All the scary stuff, like wolfs and criminals. _And that military officer that had come to visit a couple of weeks ago_.  
  
  
Was Ed really going to join the military when he got better? That was the scariest thought of all, and to be honest, Al wasn't sure if he could portect him from that. He startled, as a pink motion cluttered his view. The butterfly. It landed peacefully on Al's gauntlet, and Alphone froze. It's not afraid of me? This mesmerizing and pure little being, resting its weary wings on his own rigid and heavy hand. A symbol of freedom and colour, on his body of metal, meant for protection and pure brutalism.  
  
  
«Hey, Al.» A voice forced him out of his daydream, and the butterfly franticly flew away On top of a little hill stood his brother, leaning heavily on a crutch. Clearly worn out by the effort, his forhead drenched in sweat.  
«Brother! What are you doing out of bed?» Al exclaimed, with a combination of surprise and conserne.  
«I got bored.» The smaller boy frowned, and dropped heavily down beside Alphonse, a pained look crossed his face as he hit the ground.  
«Did granny allow you to go out?»  
«No.» Ed stated defyingly, and looked to the ground, as the first droplet fell from the sky.  
«Aw.» Ed gnarled, looking defeated as his prisonbreak was cut short.  
«Come on brother, let's go inside.» Al picked his brother up carefully, his small and damaged body fitting perfectly into his large arms. On their way back to the house, Al stopped to glance towards the tree he had just been sitting by, wondering if the butterfly had found its shelter from the brewing storm. Then Al shuckled, clutching tighter onto his somewhat reluctant bother.  
  
  
_Yeah, it'll be alright._

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my God, I can't believe I actually finished a story! This was a shorty, but I enjoyed writing it very much. I guess I'll dedicade it to my little brother, who was the inspiration for this. Myself being 5'3, I will never in my life stop being the big sister, even if my brother is towering over me at 6'3. And I'll bet you that there is no one in the world that can make him feel more like a little kid then I can.
> 
> I'm keeping it short and sweet, as I feel like words often have more of an impact that way. But knowing myself and my "too much gene", I might come back and add some stuff later.
> 
> For what looked like  
> storms and heavy rain  
> became a nice and quiet summer day  
> thanks to a gust of Wind  
> from a random stroke of a butterfly's wing.  
> «Sommerfuglvinger» by Anne Grete Preus
> 
> Translated from norwegian to english by me. 
> 
> Stay awesome!


End file.
